An erthynsilver bar -- standard currency in most of the Known World, and valued at 2000 silver coins.
By Aradell
"The stuff can only be from Kaelum," said a man to me. For fifty years Sarn has been forging weapons from steel, so this is a man who knows his metals.
And his words are not spoken without just cause, for who can account for a metal which ignores all the natural limitations of our more worldly metals?
"We call it a metal because it can be forged," Sarn says. "Though not by normal means. But past that, it’s more of a crystal or gem – not normal at all."
A description is in order. Yes, it serves as currency, but how many of us have had the opportunity to hold an erthynsilver bar, whose value lies at 2000 of our silver coins? Indeed, few people have actually seen the stuff. But once you do, it lingers in your mind forever.
It’s best to envision it as a sort of glass -- clear, but with a strange depth to it that distorts what lies beyond and doesn’t let your vision quite get through. The whole of it has a silverish color that’s tinged with an inner opalescence of a brighter silver and golden quality. When erthynsilver is appraised, its worth usually hinges on the degree and clarity of this deep, opalescent sheen.
From there its qualities only become more impressive. The material is nearly indestructible, being impervious to acids, resistant to all but the hottest of flames (think dragon’s fire), and cannot be scratched by any substance known upon Carador.
"Imagine a thread-thin strand," Sarn goes on. "Say, an arm long. Put on some leather gloves and try to bend it. If you’re exceptionally strong, you might get the slightest bend to it. But then, as soon as you let it go, it snaps right back to its former position. No fatigue. Now if you could apply enough pressure, you could bend that piece of erthynsilver double before it snapped!"
Because of some basic properties of metal, Sarn has reason to be surprised. First of all, it’s a general truth that the harder a substance is, the more brittle it is. When forging steel, it’s always a balance between hardness, which allows a blade to hold a sharp edge, and flexibility, which prevents the sword from breaking under duress. Rel Morde steel, of course, is magically enhanced to be both harder and more flexible than natural steels, but even the finest of Rel Morde blades cannot compare to the attributes of erthynsilver.
"You can put an edge on an erthynsilver blade like the kind you can get from obsidian – fine enough to cut your flesh with the merest brush. And guess what? You’ll never, not even after generations, have to sharpen that blade, even if you’re dragging it along the cobblestone every day. Add to that the fact that the sword will never tarnish, scratch, or break, and you’ve got yourself a blade fit for a deity."
So where does it come from, and how is it forged if it is so resistant to change?
The knowledge of forging lies with the Archaists. They are among the most secret of societies, a group of people privy to an ancient and mostly forgotten school of magic. Through the centuries their reputation has waxed and waned – at times they were the most respected of guilds, at others a dangerous cult wielding forbidden magics. But through the ages they have always managed to keep their secrets their own. All we know is that they use some magical means, reportedly the harnessing of lightning-like energies, and utilize them to heat the erthynsilver to the point where it can be forged.
What remains a mystery is this – from whence does it come? Two ideas prevail here – the first being that it truly does, as our smithy hinted, come from Kaelum. And judging by the qualities of the metal, it’s not a wonder that such an idea exists. But if it’s true, it brings forth another mystery, for even our most powerful mages and majae, with the most potent of Realm-travel magic, cannot reach that exalted plane. So who brings it to us? The second theory holds that erthynsilver is a native Caradorian metal, and is found in mines, just like gold or silver. If so, such locations must be kept extremely secret and well guarded by the Archaists, for why has an explorer never stumbled upon such a mine and returned to civilization with tales of such a discovery?
We will have to concern ourselves, then, with the more practical aspects of erthynsilver.
"The vast majority of the stuff goes into erthynsilver bars," I was told by our smith. "Only a tiny bit goes into ornaments, and even less into weapons or armor. Likely it’s rather difficult to forge, so mostly those little bars are made."
Light, beautiful, hard, flexible – with so much right about it, what’s wrong with it?
"Rarity. There simply isn’t much of it to go around." Indeed, all of us who have marveled at the lightness of an erthynsilver bar can attest that little except for gemstones are more valuable per grain.
This rare metal (if such we may safely call it) will remain, then, a mysterious beauty – one of the most useful substances we might ever hope for, but one that surrounds itself with such well-guarded mysteries that we may never find the answers to what lies beyond erthynsilver’s glimmering sheen.